Everything looked like it had just woken up, and I happily opened my eyes. The mountains are moist, the water is rising, and the sun's face is turning red. The grass secretly emerged from the soil, tender and green. In the garden, in the fields, look, there are large areas full of them. Sitting, lying down, playing two rolls, kicking a few balls, running a few races, and playing hide and seek a few times. The wind is gentle and the grass is soft and fluffy. Peach trees, apricot trees, pear trees, you won't let me, I won't let you, they are all blooming with flowers and rushing to visit. Red like fire, pink like rosy clouds, white like snow. There is a sweetness in the flowers, and when I close my eyes, the tree seems to be filled with peaches, apricots, and pears. Thousands and hundreds of bees buzzed under the flowers, while butterflies of all sizes flew back and forth. Wild flowers are everywhere: miscellaneous, named, unnamed, scattered in the grass, like eyes, like stars, blinking and blinking.
